


Velocity

by Agapostemon



Series: Cardboard Castles [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday, Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Gallows Humor, Gen, POV Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) has PSTD, Shiro Loves Gunther SO MUCH, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10033823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: “So, what are your birthday wishes this year, Takashi?” asks Sam from across the dining table, “It’s comin’ right around the corner, and you don’t wanna miss this one: it’s a big one!”Ordinarily, Matt would have put the pieces together immediately, but tonight he has a migraine and isn’t exactly operating at full capacity. He groans in confusion, head propped up in his hand, “How is 24 ‘a big one’, dad? I’m assuming this isn’t a four-means-death joke, because you always glare at us when we make those. But if it is… hey, welcome to the dark side.”Shiro braces himself.----------Or: Shiro celebrates his 6th birthday with the Holt family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Cursing, trauma feels, fatalistic humor, one whole double-entendre
> 
> This takes place a few months after [Somebody Catch My Breath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9623495) (and [Drown it Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9984158)). It can be read on its own, but Somebody Catch My Breath may provide more context to the AU it takes place in.
> 
> Character Ages for Reference:  
> Shiro - 23/24 (or 5/6)  
> Matt - 21  
> Pidge (Katie) - 12  
> Sam and Colleen - Old enough to have raised Matt and Pidge

**Wednesday, February 15**

“So, what are your birthday wishes this year, Takashi?” asks Sam from across the dining table, “It’s comin’ right around the corner, and you don’t wanna miss this one: it’s a big one!”

Sam’s wink is barely perceptible in the dim light of the dining room (which is lit exclusively by fake plastic candles tonight), but Shiro catches it and freezes. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sam must know his real birthday from his personnel file. Shit. He hadn’t even told Matt the truth on this one, but he suspected his cover was about to be blown.

Ordinarily, Matt would have put the pieces together immediately, but tonight he has a migraine and isn’t exactly operating at full capacity. He groans in confusion, head propped up in his hand, “How is 24 ‘a big one’, dad? I’m assuming this isn’t a four-means-death joke, because you always glare at us when we make those. But if it is… hey, welcome to the dark side.”

Shiro braces himself.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t told you!” Sam gasps in mock horror, brandishing his spoon in the air, “My dear son, your friend here is turning six years old at the end of the month. It’s a big milestone!”

Katie stands up almost immediately and pounds her hands on the table (causing Matt to flinch), “Shiro, you were born on leap day?!”

Colleen laughs and Sam looks incredibly pleased with himself. Even Matt’s pain-filled eyes seem to twinkle with mischievous delight in the fake candlelight.

But Shiro can’t _breathe_. It feels like his heart is pumping benzocaine through his veins instead of blood, numbing him one piece at a time. He excuses himself with a mumbled apology and stumbles off to Matt’s room, flopping face-down on Matt’s bed as soon as he arrives.

\---------------

He’s still in the same position 20 minutes later, when Matt limps in and crawls into bed beside him without turning on the light.

“Hey,” Matt greets in a pained half-whisper.

“Hey,” Shiro responds, his voice muffled by the bed.

“Sorry I didn’t follow you,” Matt says, “I just… ow.”

“S’fine. I think I just needed some space,” Shiro turns his head so he can look at his friend out the corner of one eye.

“Oh, okay,” says Matt, “D’you… I can go if you still need space.”

Shiro shakes his head, “Matt, it’s your room. If I still needed space, I’d just take Gunther for a walk or something.”

“Fair,” Matt grunts, “You wanna… talk? Or should I stop poking?”

“Let’s talk when you don’t have a migraine,” Shiro says with a half-smile that Matt probably can’t even see.

“Okay,” Matt agrees, and they drift into comfortable silence.

 

 

**Thursday, February 16**

By the time Matt wakes up, Shiro is already wide awake, eating cereal at Matt’s desk.

Matt has bags under his eyes and horrible bedhead. Shiro suspects his migraine kept him up late. At least there were no nightmare-related awakenings that. Shiro always feels bad when his nightmares coincide with Matt’s headaches.

After staring blearily around the room for a moment, Matt mumbles, “Morning ‘Kashi, whatcha eatin’?”

Shiro holds up a box of Kashi.

“Cannibal,” Matt teases, poking his tongue out at his friend.

“Maybe if I eat enough of myself, I’ll disappear from this mortal plane,” Shiro deadpans back, “Preferably before the end of the month.”

Matt gives a tired snort, “Seriously, what’s your deal with your birthday? My migraine’s gone, which means you owe me an explanation.” As an afterthought, he adds, “And pass me that cereal. I wanna eat you in my bed.”

Shiro hands him the box, “Fine. Can I finish my breakfast first, though?”

“Did you… just completely miss my brilliant double-entendre?” Matt says, popping open the box and shoveling a handful of dry cereal in his mouth.

“I was hoping it was an accident,” Shiro groans, dropping his spoon so he can run his hand down his face in exasperation.

“Won’t it be nice when Katie and I finish your prosthetic? Then you can eat cereal and be annoyed at me simultaneously!” Matt says with a cheeky grin.

“You guys better hurry,” says Shiro, “Because my goal for the month is to leave the mortal realm through self-cannibalism.” He takes another bite of now-soggy Kashi to emphasize his point.

“You really need to come up with a less gross way to die,” Matt quips.

“Says the guy who’s eating me,” Shiro retorts.

“On the bed,” Matt waggles his eyebrows and shoves another handful of cereal in his mouth.

They finish the rest of their breakfast in silence.

Once he slurps the last of the milk out of his bowl, Shiro spins the desk chair to face Matt, “Let’s go to the living room to talk.”

“You just wanna pet Gunther,” Matt smirks.

“I mean… yes,” admits Shiro.

“I think you love our dog almost as much as Katie does,” Matt remarks, standing up and abandoning his cereal box on the bed.

Shiro rolls his eyes and picks up the cereal, along with his empty bowl, to carry out to the kitchen.

Once they make it to the living room, Matt makes himself comfy in the recliner chair and Shiro sits down on the floor, calling Gunther over. He laughs as the wiggly bull terrier slobbers all over his face.

Once Gunther has settled down enough to flop over for belly rubs, Matt crosses his arms and grins mischievously, “So, you owe me a birthday story.”

“Right,” says Shiro, tensing a bit, “Just… give me a moment.”

“That’s fine, take all the moments you need,” says Matt, rocking squeakily in the recliner.

Shiro takes a deep breath and tries to lose himself in the warmth of Gunther’s soft, squirmy body. He tries to let the memories seep back into his mind, piecemeal as they may be.

He doesn’t like to think of his time in the Airforce as traumatic. The plane crash, sure. That’s the thing he gets nightmares about. That’s the thing that broke him. But the time before that? Something about his pride doesn’t want to admit that maybe his shell was already cracked long before he hit the ground.

But thinking back to training school leaves his head reeling. He’d gone in excited to fly and left feeling barely human. He’s not quite sure what happened in the middle. He remembers the lessons, of course, but the rest is sort of an abstract scramble.

He tries to hone in on the last leap year, his first year of pilot training. Tries to remember what exactly about it leaves him feeling like he can’t breathe. But all he comes back with is an ache in his gut and some undecipherable snapshots of memories.

Finally, he speaks, his voice measured, “It’s not about my birthday, exactly. It was funny when I was a kid. Kind of embarrassing as a teenager. Never really a big deal. I’m not really sure what changed, I just know… when.” He plays with Gunther’s paws to keep himself grounded.

“When’s that?” asks Matt. He’s still rocking in the recliner, but now his arms are uncrossed and resting on the arms of the chair.

“First year of pilot training,” Shiro says, his voice as blank as his expression, “Last leap year.”

“Yeah?” Matt says, prompting him to elaborate.

“I don’t remember much else,” Shiro drops his eyes down to watch Gunther’s tail wag. He lets himself get lost in the rhythmic movement.

Matt hums thoughtfully, “I know training was pretty rough on you.”

Shiro snaps out of his trance, genuinely surprised, “You do?”

“Uh, yeah?” Matt says, as if it couldn’t be more obvious, “I know we didn’t know each other as well back then as we do now, but dude… I know firsthand the kind of brainwashing bullshit the military put us through, and I know it really fucked with you. That stuff can really tear your head apart.”

Shiro lets out a shaky breath, “Oh.”

“You… didn’t know?” Matt blinks.

Shiro shrugs.

Matt exhales loudly, “Yikes.”

Shiro just lays down slowly on the floor and wraps himself around Gunther.

Matt doesn’t speak for a few minutes, but eventually he says carefully, “So uh… I guess it’s up to you. Y’know, to decide if you’re turning six or 23 this year. I’ll talk to my family if you want them to lay off.”

Shiro is silent for so long that Matt probably gave up on waiting for an answer. But eventually, he murmurs against the side of Gunther’s head, “Guess I’m turning six this year.”

Matt beams, “It’s gonna be the best sixth birthday you’ve ever had!”

 

 

**Wednesday, February 29**

“Not sure what kind of PT is worse: physical training or physical therapy,” Shiro says, massaging his right shoulder as he follows Sam from the car to the front door.

“With this old body, I’d take physical therapy any day of the week!” Sam responds, jangling his keys in the door.

Before Shiro has a chance to formulate a sarcastic response, the door swings open to reveal the rest of the Holt family decked out in Pokémon party hats. Katie is sitting in the floor, holding onto Gunther’s hat so it doesn’t flop off his head. Colleen steps forward to hand Sam his party hat, and Matt hobbles over to dump and entire bowl of Pokéball confetti over Shiro’s head before handing him a party hat of his own.

Shiro grins, then looks down at the child-sized hat in his hands, “Is this even gonna fit on my head?”

Sam shrugs.

“Fit on mine!” Matt says.

“Worth a try,” encourages Colleen.

“Elastic stretches,” Katie points out, giving Gunther a smug look as if he’s the only one in the house who understands her.

Apparently elastic doesn’t stretch _enough_ , though, because Shiro’s elastic threatens to snap long before making it to his chin.

“I got this!” Matt says, pulling a binder clamp out of his cargo pocket and reaching up to clip the hat to Shiro’s shorter-than-usual forelock (which is growing back white for whatever reason).

Shiro gives him a look but rolls with it.

“Come on back to the dining room!” Colleen motions for everyone to follow.

Before they even arrive, a familiar scent hits Shiro’s nose. It permeates the entire back half of the house, warm and rich and inviting. He inhales deeply, filling his lungs with it as they enter the dining room. He looks to Colleen, his voice cracking, “You made Japanese curry?”

She smiles, “Matt told us it’s your favorite comfort food. I hope fish and tofu are okay proteins, because…”

Katie smiles impishly and shrugs, “Kosher.”

Shiro laughs, tears brimming in his eyes, “I’m sure it’s perfect.”

“You might wanna try it before you praise me and Mom’s white-ass attempt at Japanese cuisine,” snorts Matt.

“Also, your gift from me didn’t quite get wrapped,” chuckles Colleen, tapping at the rice cooker insert sitting amongst the other food on the table, “I kind of needed it for tonight’s dinner.”

“You got a rice cooker,” Shiro observes, eyes wide.

“And short-grain rice,” Colleen adds.

“Still dunno what’s wrong with boil-in-bag rice,” shrugs Matt.

“ _Everything_ is wrong with boil-in-bag rice,” Shiro insists.

\---------------

Once they’ve finished eating, Colleen disappears back into the kitchen and returns with a round cake in her hands. It’s Pokémon-themed like the hats and has six purple candles around the edges.

“ _Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Shi—Taka—shi—ro—_ ” they all pause and look at each other before bursting out laughing. Clearly they had forgotten to coordinate which name they were calling him for the song. Not that Shiro minded one way or the other.

“Wait wait, guys. I’ve got it… Takashiro!” Matt exclaims, sending them all back into a fit of laughter. Shiro groans and buries his face in his hand, but it doesn’t take long for him to dissolve into laughter with them. Once they’ve all calmed down, they re-sing the song (“ _Happy Birthday dear Takashiro!_ ”), and Colleen sets the cake down in front of Shiro.

Now that it’s up close, he sees it has Arcanine and Umbreon on it. His favorite Pokémon. He smiles.

_Thanks Matt._

“Make a wish and blow ‘em out!” Sam says, leaning forward eagerly.

“Oh, uh… okay,” Shiro says. He contemplates not bothering with the wish, but at the last second he changes his mind.

_I hope this family stays in my life for a long time to come._

Then he takes a breath and blows out all the candles in one go.

…they all reignite seconds later.

Katie cackles so hard she nearly falls out of her chair, “Trick candles!”

\---------------

After cake and almond milk ice cream, everyone heads to the living room so Shiro can open the rest of his gifts. Shiro takes a seat on the couch, between Matt and Gunther, with Katie perching on the couch arm beside the dog. Sam and Colleen crowd into the recliner together like the unbearably cute couple they are.

“So…” says Shiro, staring at the pile of gifts on the coffee table (wrapped, of course, in Pokémon paper), “Is there any particular order I should go in?”

“Big one at the bottom is last!” Katie instructs.

“Otherwise, do what your heart tells you,” Sam grins.

So he does. He tries to open the first gift (a black and purple sweater vest from Sam) using just his left hand, but halfway through the second gift he abandons his dignity and starts using his teeth.

The next gift is a black tank top. He unfurls it to read the text on the front: I Flexed and the Arm Came Off. Heat rising in his face, he turns to Matt, “Matt. How? _Why?_ ”

And then they’re both laughing. Laughing so hard that tears stream down Shiro’s face and Matt has to hold his head to fend off an incoming headache. Laughing so hard that their faces are still red as tomatoes several gifts later. Laughing so hard that maybe a couple sobs slip into the mix. Not sure what to do with himself, Shiro pulls his best friend into a one-armed hug and laugh-cries into his shoulder until he’s too tired to laugh anymore.

Eventually, he pulls away from Matt, trying to discretely wipe his nose on his shirtsleeve before picking up the next gift and tearing away the wrapping paper. This one is an easy-grip pen from Katie.

“You lost your dominant hand and now no one can read your handwriting,” she explains, blunt but not unkind.

“Uh, thanks?” Shiro says “I think.”

Slowly but surely, he makes his way through the rest of the stack of gifts: Star Wars Pajama pants from Matt, Ginger candy and gourmet licorice from Colleen, an assortment of dog-print novelty socks from Sam and Katie. Eventually, all that’s left is the big box at the bottom. It’s from Matt and Katie.

“It’s heavy enough that maybe you can open it without drooling all over it!” Matt says with a cackle.

Katie just leans forward eagerly, bracing herself against Gunther to get a better look at Shiro’s expression as he tears off the wrapping paper.

He’s not particularly surprised when he sees the Star Wars logo. He’s marathoned the entire series with Matt and Katie twice in under six months.

He’s more surprised when he sees the Lego logo.

He glances between Matt and Katie, taking in their matching shit-eating grins. Even their parents are wearing knowing smiles.

“Okay, I need an explanation,” Shiro declares indignantly, “There is no way you two are dumb enough to give a one-armed man a Lego set without some kind of ulterior motive. Spill.”

Matt nods to Katie, a twinkle in his eye, “Go get it.”

“Yesssssss,” she hisses in delight, leaping off the couch and scampering to the basement with Gunther at her heels. A moment later, she prances back into the living room with something hidden behind her back and a smug look on her face.

Gunther hops back up on the couch and Shiro places his hand on the dog’s head, “What’s behind your back, Katie?”

Her grin just grows as she slowly, teasingly reveals the surprise.

It’s black and white and mechanical and… arm shaped.

Shiro’s breath catches in his throat.

“We finished it,” Matt says, his grin just as wide as his sister’s, “At least, the prototype. It might need some adjustments.”

Shiro’s mouth hangs open a bit as he rubs vigorously at Gunther’s ear, trying to think of what to say. Thankfully, the Holt siblings aren’t done talking, yet. (Are the Holt siblings ever done talking?)

“It’s robotic!” Katie says proudly, “It’ll connect to your neural pathways, which means you’ll have much more precise motor control than you would with a traditional prosthetic.”

“Don’t expect it to work right away, though,” Matt warns, “It’ll take it a while to get acquainted with your nervous system. Basically: you’ll have to teach it to listen to you.”

Katie nods, stroking the arm lovingly (which only makes Shiro feel a _little_ weird), “It has to learn, just like humans do.”

“Which is why we got you Legos!” Matt exclaims, “Once you get the hang of basic motor control stuff, you’ll need to practice. And what better way to practice using a new hand than LEGO SPACESHIPS?!”

“I will obviously be partaking in Lego spaceship-building, as well,” Katie says.

“Also, it matches your hair,” Matt adds.

“O-oh my god,” Shiro finally manages to stutter out.

“Want me to help you put it on?” Matt asks. His maniacal grin has softened.

Shiro takes a few shaky breaths and then nods, too overwhelmed to figure out how he’s feeling.

Slowly and gently, Matt plucks the arm from Katie’s hands and sets to work attaching the sensors and adjusting the grip around Shiro’s bicep, asking for feedback as he goes.

“There, I think you’re all set,” Matt says finally, sitting back with a proud, soft, worried smile, “How does it feel?”

Even once it’s properly adjusted, it feels strange on Shiro’s arm. It’s tight and hard and not all that comfortable. But… wow.

Matt and Katie _made this_ for him.

“Wow,” he murmurs reverently.

“You wanna try moving the hand?” Matt prompts gently.

Shiro’s eyes widen, “Will it… work?”

Katie chuckles from behind him, now perched on the back of the couch, “Only one way to find out.”

“Just… move it like you would move your other hand,” says Matt, “At least… that’s the idea. Did I mention this is a prototype? Because this is a prototype.”

“Okay,” Shiro says. He takes a deep breath an clears his head, staring down at the hand—his hand?—and willing it to move. Single-mindedly willing the fist to close. He’s not sure how long he’s there, but after what seems like either 30 seconds or an eternity, the fingers flex. Not exactly a closed fist, but y’know what… he’ll take it.

_Wow._

A proud smile spreads across Matt’s face, “See, aren’t you glad you didn’t auto-cannibalize yourself out of existence before your fifth birthday?” (This comment earns them both a horrified look from everyone else in the room.)

Shiro laughs softly, “Okay, yeah. This is… pretty cool.”

“You wanna see if you can make it hug?” asks Matt, holding out his arms, “Y’know, for science.”

Shiro chuckles and nods, leaning forward into Matt’s hug. His new arm doesn’t cooperate at all—it sticks out awkwardly behind Matt, refusing to bend at the elbow—but that’s fine. He’ll work on it. This is fine for now.

This is more than fine for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the SUPER CUTE art riverblujay made of [Shiro in his new shirt](http://riverblujay.tumblr.com/post/165083202899/so-i-drew-this-ages-ago-but-shiro-wearing-this)!
> 
> My original plan was for this to be a two-parter, but I'm just... really satisfied with how this half turned out and none of my plans for the theoretical second half are not turning into anything remotely worth reading. So this chapter's just gonna stand alone. To anyone disappointed by the lack of Chapter 2: don't be. You're not missing out on anything. Trust me, this reads way better as is than it would if I added to it.
> 
> If you wanna come say hi, I'm [Agapostemon](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> Also: Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


End file.
